


Fights Always End With Make-Up Sex

by Candybara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Dry Sex, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Makeup Sex, One Shot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7444876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candybara/pseuds/Candybara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The diner had been mostly empty, save for what was then you and a handful of others scattered across the numerous booths and tables that lined the glossy, checkered tile flooring. It was the busiest you had ever seen the place on a Saturday afternoon, though that likely had more to do with the fact that the place was known not for the quality of its food, but for the aesthetic of its environment. </p><p>There was a jukebox in the far corner, colorful yet barely-working, and swiveling stools lining the bar where hungover college students almost always received a free cup of coffee out of nothing more than sympathy. There was no air conditioning, instead only rows of ceiling fans circling lazily overhead. The windows were wide and clear and the bright red leather of each worn-down seat always felt more like plastic under the palms of any given customer. All in all, it felt like something straight out of an old American movie. Cheap, vintage, and perfect for dates. It was a favorite of both yours and his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fights Always End With Make-Up Sex

You met Aomine on your way out, he on his way in, and anyone who may have caught the seemingly callous interaction would likely not have been able to tell that you knew him, or that you had been waiting for him, for that matter. He stood in the doorway, apparently oblivious to your presence, as his attention seemed to have been completely swallowed up by the overflowing breasts of a voluptuous yet unsuspecting pedestrian, and though you had half a notion to smack him upside the head, you instead ended up simply shouldering past him without much care or thought, mind blank aside from the cold ashes of a rage that had already long since begun to consume the meager dustings of your patience.

The diner had been mostly empty, save for what was then you and a handful of others scattered across the numerous booths and tables that lined the glossy, checkered tile flooring. It was the busiest you had ever seen the place on a Saturday afternoon, though that likely had more to do with the fact that the place was known not for the quality of its food, but for the aesthetic of its environment.

There was a jukebox in the far corner, colorful yet barely-working, and swiveling stools lining the bar where hungover college students almost always received a free cup of coffee out of nothing more than sympathy. There was no air conditioning, instead only rows of ceiling fans circling lazily overhead. The windows were wide and clear and the bright red leather of each worn-down seat always felt more like plastic under the palms of any given customer. All in all, it felt like something straight out of an old American movie. Cheap, vintage, and perfect for dates. It was a favorite of both yours and his.

You were already halfway across the street by the time Aomine finally realized who exactly had so roughly shoved him aside in order to step around his bulky frame, but even still he was soon calling after you with what was at first a cheerful tone, running up the sidewalk to catch your brisk pace. You ignored his confounded greeting, never once bothering to acknowledge that you had heard him. Confusion turned to frustration, and then the complaints came one after another.

You were seething, but you still let him follow you all the way home, leaving anger and tension in the few feet of distance Aomine kept as he sulked along behind you. He had finally shut up around a half mile into his lamenting, only eventually realizing just how deeply in trouble he was because you only ever gave him the cold shoulder when you were furious, and that scared him.

He had never dreamed that there would come a time when he actually wanted a good scolding, but more than he ever thought possible in that moment, he just wished your resolve would snap enough for you to unleash your lividity upon him. Maybe then the path to forgiveness would be made more clear.

He lingered near the steps of your home as you dug your keys out of your pocket, but was met with rejection the instant he tried to follow you inside.

“Babe—” He started, only to be cut off by a slab of oak straight to the forehead when you slammed the door in his face. He cursed loudly and brought a hand up to caress the spot where hard wood had met skin, palm sweaty and warm over the aching throb of a blow he probably deserved. His other hand reached for the doorknob, which, much to his relief, he found unlocked, though such a fact hardly managed to quiet or even provide barren resistance to the hot rush of anxiety in his blood or the pistoning thrum of adrenaline in his veins, especially not as his fingers finally coiled around the cool metal of the door handle and twisted it open.

He found you sitting on a floor cushion, leaning over a short-legged table with a book in front of your face like you had been there all morning long. You idly teased the edge of a page between your fingertips as Aomine pressed the door quietly shut behind him, though you still refused to pay him any mind even as he shuffled through the foyer with hesitation, hanging back cautiously through a spell of aimless meandering before finally summoning up the courage to approach the end of the table opposite you.

He froze as your eyes flitted up at last, swallowing thickly when he caught a glimpse of the glower that tugged heavy at the corners of your mouth. You were all cold glares and resentment, and Aomine felt like a fool for not quite knowing why.

“Uh…” He tried, dropping his gaze away from your piercing stare. He brought a nervous hand up to scratch the back of his head as he fumbled with the questions lodged in his throat, before eventually settling on the worst one possible.

“I’m… sorry?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the uncertainty of his tone, and Aomine flinched in tandem with the harsh whop of paper as you snapped your book shut.

“You don’t even know what you did.”

It was far from a inquiry, that much was clear. If you could take the context out of your scowl, it would become a statement of fact, or perhaps even more than that, as you had already known from the beginning that your idiot boyfriend would be all but completely clueless about his own habitual errors when confronted with your irritation. At worst, it was a blatant accusation. At best, a permeation of Aomine’s not-so-blissful ignorance.

Regardless of how he took it, he looked significantly smaller with his shoulders slouched in shame.

“I mean… Well, I know I was a little late, but—”

“A little late? A _little_ late?” You repeated, incredulous. “I was there for an hour. I spent my morning sitting alone in a restaurant, waiting for you for an _hour_. _A fucking hour_ , _Daiki_!”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” He bristled. “I just… I overslept is all!”

“ _You overslept_?!” You were on your feet at that, your eyes misty and your voice shaky as it threatened to crack under the hard lump in your throat. “Damn it, Daiki, we hardly ever see each other anymore! I know you’re busy with basketball or whatever, but this was supposed to be the one time we could have a real date in… i-in fucking forever, and you couldn’t even bother to set an alarm?!”

Suddenly Aomine was there and he was close, so very, very close, and you could feel him, warm and steady through the familiar glide of his touch as he caressed your jaw with a large, tender palm. He smoothed a calloused thumb over the curve of your cheek, smearing a spilled rivulet of shimmering salt over the soft sweep of your skin, and it was only then that you realized you had been nearly sobbing through the latter half of your sorrowful grievance.

“Babe, don’t cry… Please……”

You tilted your head away from Aomine’s touch and pressed the flat of your palm to your lips, hoping to provide a barrier to the convulsive whimpers that threatened to tear through your lungs with each shaky breath you took. You stared down at your feet through the tears clinging hot to your lashes and simply wept, feeling far more under-appreciated than you could possibly give yourself credit for. You were unloved, undesired, that was what you told yourself, and if a longing for affection, validation, consolation, or if even need alone could have ripped you apart at that moment, you would have long since been in pieces.

“Am I just not good enough for you anymore…?” You asked quietly, your uneven sobs having finally begun to subside into calmer inhales and exhales, and whether or not the look on Aomine’s face was any real indication of what his response would be, you never even bothered giving yourself the chance to see it before you were continuing on.

“I know you can’t help it or anything, but I saw the way you looked at that other woman today, and… w-well, I’m not exactly your best option so……” You hesitated. “Um… i-if you don’t want me anymore, I really—I’d just prefer that you be honest about it……”

His arms were around you in an instant, his face pressed warm against the crook of your neck, and you wondered if he was crying too because his breathing was labored and his shoulders held none of the strong, confident grace that you had rarely ever seen traded for such fragile desperation. Even still, you stood in place, silent and motionless as his fingers wove down the small of your back, and you only shied away at first when you felt him plant a gentle kiss over the curve of your jaw.

“Daiki…? Aren’t you going to say anything……?”

Then Aomine was grasping at the hem of your shirt, tugging it up to reveal the bare expanse of your abdomen, and you all but pushed him to the floor. He grunted from the force of it as you shoved at his chest and thrashed against his arms, pulling yourself out and away from the close press of his frame until you finally broke free from what should have been a loving embrace.

“What the hell?!” You hissed, quickly taking a number of steps back when you saw him start to reach out for you again. His expression was pleading, perhaps even a bit doleful, despite his untimely advance, but no matter just how benevolent he seemed to think his intentions were, it still ended up making you feel like nothing more than an object, a tool to use for his own pleasure.

And it sparked steel and flint against the dying embers of your bitterness all over again.

“I promise I’ll make you feel better, just let me—”

“No! I’m still fucking mad at you!”

Your chest heaved with shallow breaths, as they were the most you could take without succumbing to the sour burn in your lungs. Your eyes felt swollen and red, your cheeks flushed and tear-streaked, and Aomine simply stood there looking utterly at a loss for words.

“Shit,” he breathed, burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, damn it… I just don’t know what the fuck else to do…….”

Your fingers were clenched too-tight around the hem of your shirt, but you paid the ache of your knuckles no mind as you shifted your stance, tipping your weight from one foot onto the other. The air was completely infested with silence, brutal and suffocating enough to make you long for the blaring humidity of summer, because every last inch of your living room instead felt dry and inhospitable, like the dead of winter.

You swallowed down the bile in your throat and reached up to wipe away the moisture clinging to the corners of your eyes, letting out a tremulous sigh when you realized just how numb your face felt. You could hardly recall the cheerfulness you had felt merely hours earlier, though you supposed you always had been a bit addicted to misery. It ran cold and metallic through your blood at that very moment, but even so, it was better than feeling like an empty shell of what once was.

“…I think I need to be alone right now,” you murmured at last, glancing up at Aomine from under the salt-crusted swoop of your lashes. He visibly stiffened at your gentle utterance, his head still wedged between his hands, but as he had no right to protest and certainly no right to disoblige, he simply ended up acquiescing with a curt nod before seeing himself out.

He slammed the door upon his exit, and just like that, the fight ended in exactly the way it had started.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Three slapstick comedies, two sobfests, a nap, and a carton of takeout later, your phone lit up the darkness enshrouding the walls of your room within a hazy cloak of midnight. You fumbled about as you reached for the device that had earlier been tossed aside and preemptively squinted through the bright glow of the screen, not even caring to read the notification that blared against the gleaming display because only one person ever bothered to text you at such a late hour.

[Time] 23:46

[From] Daiki ♡

[Subject] sorry

>> can i see you tomorrow

[Time] 23:47

[To] Daiki ♡

[Subject] Re: sorry

<< I thought you had practice all day?

[Time] 23:52

[From] Daiki ♡

[Subject] Re: Re: sorry

>> ill skip

[Time] 23:54

[To] Daiki ♡

[Subject] Re: Re: Re: sorry

<< You shouldn’t skip.

[Time] 00:01

[From] Daiki ♡

[Subject] Re: Re: Re: Re: sorry

>> its fine i really need to talk to you

[Time] 00:04

[To] Daiki ♡

[Subject] Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: sorry

<< Um… Sure I guess. Come over whenever.

You sank back into the warmth of your mattress and pulled a blanket over your head, blinking slowly as your phone alerted you of a low battery level. You set it aside without plugging it in to charge and simply closed your eyes, hoping for sleep to come as easily as a late night awakening probably would. Anxiety-induced insomnia was a bitch.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The knock came before you were even really aware that the day had started. With a slice of buttered toast wedged between your teeth and a hot cup of tea in hand, you puttered about your morning half-awake, not even having bothered to change out of your night clothes considering it had already taken more than enough effort to finally cajole yourself into rolling out of bed.

You glanced through a nearby window and found Aomine pacing back and forth across your doormat, muttering nervously under his breath as he read from— _was that a_ _notecard_? You felt yourself smile against your better judgement, though you really were curious to see what he had written down on that little square of paper in his hands. You watched him stop to rake his fingers through his hair before you finally stepped into the entryway of your apartment, chewing a corner off the slice of toast in your mouth while you undid the lock on the handle.

Aomine reacted with a startle as the door creaked open, pocketing the notecard far too frantically for it not to be suspicious. You raised a brow at him and he swallowed thickly, clearing his throat.

“Uh…” He spoke softly, slanting his gaze to the arm you had braced against the frame of the door. “I’m… not very good with words.”

You nodded. “Mmh. I know.”

He let out a tense chuckle at that. “Y-yeah… But, uh, I never answered your question, so……”

You took another slow bite of toast as Aomine brought a hand to the back of his neck, and that was when you felt your blood start to run cold. He both looked and likely felt very awkward in the struggle of his endeavor, and it only served to make you fear for the magnitude of his imminent disclosure. Any flecks of apprehension that you had felt before, late night or early morning, was all at once completely overshadowed by dread. You had to know what he wanted to say, but simultaneously it was the thought of knowing that sent you into a panic.

Worst-case scenarios raced through the forefront of your mind. He would break up with you. He would tell you he held no love for you anymore. No, what if he had never even loved you in the first place? He had realized he could do better. Or even more crushing, he had already found someone better. You suddenly found it to be exceedingly difficult to swallow your breakfast.

Aomine dragged the toe of his shoe over polished concrete and took a deep breath. You stood there, frozen and queasy, and braced yourself.

“Well, uh… You’re really nice, a-and smart and responsible and stuff. And…… I’m not really any of those things.” Oh fuck, it was really happening. You willed yourself not to cry prematurely.

“You’re also really cute… and hot. Like, really hot. And pretty.” He had already started to blush like a schoolgirl by that point. “W-well—I mean, what I’m trying to say is that you’re the one who’s too good for me… not the other way around……”

You stared, speechless, barely even breathing as Aomine finally lifted his gaze. You were too stunned to look relieved, too relieved to look elated, but it was all there and whether your emotions were evident in your expression or not, it was a sentiment that quite simply made your heart flutter through the blossoming warmth in your chest. You fought the urge to beam, though the smile rising through your cheeks only served to make way for a dusting of heat, a cheerful flush under your skin that still ended up matching the iridescent glimmer in your gaze.

“Is that what you had written on your notecard?” You teased, brushing the crumbs off your fingers as you tugged at the hem of your shorts. Aomine blushed harder still and looked away with a pout.

“Sh-shut up… I didn’t want to forget anything important……”

And with that, you laughed, airy and light as you hopped down off your doorstep to tug Aomine’s lips to your own. You held him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him, grinning playfully against his mouth the moment you felt him kiss back. His hands found your midriff before settling over the curve of your waist, and you giggled as he nearly tripped kicking off his shoes.

There was no dancing of tongues, no panting hot and heavy against one another, at least not yet. It was all sweet and tender as you walked Aomine backwards into your apartment, and it was gently voiced whispers when he asked if you forgave him and you called him a dummy, but told him ‘of course’ in the end. It was a close embrace when he wrapped his arms around you and told you he needed you, and that he wanted you, and it was a warm breath when you slipped your hands into the back pockets of his jeans and kissed him again.

Later yet, it was gliding fabric and shifting bodies, discarded clothes and missed steps as you guided Aomine to your bedroom, meandering all the while, and you smiled against his lips when you felt him tug you to edge of your mattress. He slid up the undone sheets as you hovered over him, only straddling his hips when he stopped at last to let his hands ghost up your sides and over your naked chest.

You emitted a soft moan and rocked back against his thighs when you felt him cup your breasts, sparking shivers under calloused palms as he swept his thumbs over the tips of your nipples. His length was already starting to strain firm against the front of his boxers, drawing forth hot beads of arousal to spill over the cottony fabric, and every time you lowered your hips to grind against his growing erection, you could hear his groans rumbling through his chest, low and raw and needy.

You pressed your palms flat against Aomine’s abdomen and bore your weight down on him, letting the damp gusset of your underwear slip friction between your slick folds and drag pressure along the heavy throb of your entrance. He breathed out a shaky sigh as his hips bucked, but before long he was thrusting up under you like he could hardly help himself. You rocked against him, hoping the stimulation between your legs would be enough to temper the heat dripping through your core, but instead it simply felt like you were melting faster than ever.

A heady shudder blazed up your spine as a sudden movement caught sensation around your clit, and you felt yourself whine as Aomine sat upright to kiss between your breasts, lips trailing from one to the other before finally shifting to close around a stiffening nipple. He sucked and tongued at the sensitive flesh, and when you whimpered under his touch, he responded with a hum that pricked your skin with the echo of his contentment.

“Fuck, I can feel how wet you are from here…” He husked, rolling his hips harder up against your clothed entrance, and then he was dropping a hand between your legs to prod at your clit. You exhaled a breathy moan as his fingers slid over and under the fabric lining your slit, dragging lust-glazed warmth between your folds to stroke gratification through the pit of your stomach.

“Daiki—” You gasped, thighs twitching with each jolt of stimulation that reverberated under your skin. You were already heavy-lidded with pleasure by the time you finally managed to slip your palm beneath the waistband of Aomine’s boxers, your lashes quivering against your cheeks as you closed your fist around the hot pulse of his shaft.

He groaned low in his throat when he felt your fingers skid up and over the head of his length, pumping him under your touch with just enough leisure to keep him softly bucking into your hand. He shuddered and let his head fall back against the sheets as you thumbed at the tip of his erection, and it was only then that you noticed just how deeply the vibrant shades of cobalt in his gaze had been suffused with something darker, something needier. It made you want him more than you would have ever thought possible otherwise.

You sat back against Aomine’s thighs to roll your underwear down the bare expanse of your legs, allowing the thin fabric to twist and bunch around your ankles before you finally brought yourself to kick the garment free altogether. Your breathing quickened as the anticipation in your blood began to spill over, leaving your cheeks flushed and your eyes alight with the heat of arousal cascading down the stretch of your spine.

Your heart was drumming, quite nearly hammering against the walls of your chest, and whether or not its audibility came rapid in hollow beats or was simply imagined through the incandescence of your fluster, Aomine could certainly feel the pulsing rhythm under his fingertips. It was hardly enough for you to know that he was no less composed than you, but you still gave a pleased hum when you heard him groan softly, your fingers coiling firm around his erection once again.

“I want to feel you now…” You whispered at last, your voice rough and heavy with desire. Aomine’s eyes fell shut around a flicker of pleasure as your hips sank down over his own, and you took note of the gasp that caught thick behind the lump in his throat as you shifted and sighed, sliding the smooth head of his length between your warm, wet folds.

Your thighs trembled as you took inch by inch of him inside you, straddling him lower and lower until you were settled as flat against his lap as you could possibly manage. His breath hitched as his hands crept down your waist to cup your ass, palms shaky and clammy beneath the slow glide of his fingers. And that was when you really started to ride him.

You braced your palms against the sinewy lines of his chest and oscillated your hips, driving him deeper with every downstroke and hearing him moan with every upstroke. His expression was contorted with bliss, brows furrowed and lips parted for air even though each breath only felt half as potent as the flames licking the sweat from his skin.

He shuddered and panted as your thighs flexed around the margins of his hips, fingertips digging into the soft swell of your ass as you came down hard around his length. Your entire body shook as you took him in at the perfect angle, and when you could feel the ridge of his shaft sliding through the slip of your inner walls, setting each and every one of your nerve endings off like a firecracker, it was all you could do to keep from blowing past the boundaries of your control as you guided his hand by the wrist to your clit.

You whimpered and convulsed through a crest of stimulation as he fingered the throbbing nub in a beckoning motion, stroking heat and lubricious arousal over the sensitive quiver of your flesh. His hips were beyond meeting yours halfway, but it was already becoming increasingly difficult, almost to the point of near impossibility, to reprimand him for thrusting into you like that when it felt _so damn good_.

“Fuck, _aah_ … R-right there……” Your back arched through the shift of your frame, and Aomine groaned as you rocked against him. His fingers worked your clit in time with the rhythmic glide of his shaft, and when the sudden apex of pressure in your core made the borders of your entrance tighten around him, you swore you felt his pulse spike over a skipped beat.

“I love you…” He uttered, clenching his teeth to silence a grunt when he felt you grind your hips against his own.

“I love you, Daiki—” You returned, gasping as the gratification bubbling in your blood threatened to overflow and spill into your release. “I love you so much…”

Aomine’s chest heaved through a shaky moan as you leaned forward to kiss him, mouth sliding against his own, hot and messy and passionate. You whined as he captured your bottom lip between his teeth and pushed into you again, planting his heels against the edge of the mattress to buck up harder. You felt your arms tremble as your hands clenched into fists.

“I’m so fucking close,” Aomine breathed, his voice straining with desperation, and you replied with a whispered concurrence as you swallowed down the ecstasy on your tongue, instead opting to focus on the intimacy of your coalescence.

You focused on his touch and the way he held you close to him, on the heated sway of your body against his and the oxygen shared among the marginal space within. You focused on the thunderous beat of his heart, on the rise and fall of his chest, on the way he felt inside you. It was like all the stars in the heavens were fluttering against your skin, swaddling you in the inky blue of midnight even despite the fact that the sun was still high in the sky.

But Aomine gazed at you with the whole world in orbed pools of sapphire, and though you could rightfully say that had never felt more vulnerable in your life than you did at that moment, you could likewise contend that you had also never felt more safe. So you let go and gave yourself to him, falling apart in his arms as the stimulation in your core breached the limits of your climax.

You came with the wings of paradise sweeping the air from your lungs, leaving you unable to do much more than mewl meekly against the curve of Aomine’s neck. Your limbs shook as you forced your hips down onto him a final time, your frame nearly collapsing over the tremor in your pulse. You shivered and moaned and gasped as your orgasm flooded through you, and the impact of it might have also ended up leaving you in the wreckage, had each wave of pleasure coursing through your veins not also left a warm brew of satiation in the tails of their foamy wakes.

You felt Aomine shudder and grunt as he tried to thrust into you shallowly, and somehow it was still enough to drag him over the edge. His release surged forth with the first lurch of his hips and slowed to a trickle with the last, spurting out slick and hot against the lining of your inner walls. He hugged you to his chest as he rode out his climax and simply breathed, or tried to, anyway, but when all was said and done he was happy enough to simply hold you, and feel you, and love you.

When your body finally fell slack against his, it came with a contented sigh and your cheek nestled to his shoulder, and before long you felt your lips curve into a soft smile as Aomine pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his fingers threading slowly through your hair.

“So you really forgive me?” He asked again, and you let out a low hum meant to hide the mirth that sent a chuckle bubbling up the back of your throat.

“If you oversleep and miss a date with me again, I’ll kill you.”

He continued to look mortified long after you assured him that you were only joking. Well, only _mostly_ joking. His expression was worth it either way.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up at http://imagine-nsfw-basuke-things.tumblr.com/ for more sinful reader-insert adventures!


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